Ode to Retirement


Old age is golden, so I’ve heard said

But sometimes I wonder, as I get into bed.

With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup

And my eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself

“Is there anything else I should put on the shelf?”

And I’m happy to say as I close my eyes

“My friends are the same, perhaps even more.”

When I was young my slippers were red,

I could kick up my heels as high as my head.

Then when I was older, my slippers were blue,

But still I could walk the whole day through.

Now I am old, my slippers are black.

I walk to the store and puff my way back.

The reason I know my youth is all spent,

My get up and go has got up and went.

But really, I don’t mind when I think with a grin,

Of all the grand places my get up has been.

Since I have retired from life’s competition

I busy myself with complete repetition.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits,

Pick up the paper and read the ‘obits’

If my name is missing I know I’m not dead

So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.